Date: Mon, 18 Jan 2010 02:08:05 -0500
From: Thomas Rea
Subject: Eric's Proposal Gay Male / Adult Friends
Eric's Proposal
by
Thomas Rea
tommy922@hotmail.com
This is the story of a dear, but difficult, friend. Eric and I remained
friends for many years after college and recently, thanks to the wonders of
a certain social networking website, we've recently become re-acquainted.
As always, I enjoy your feedback, good or bad. Feel free to email me with
your comments. And now...
My relationship with Eric was at somewhat...unusual. We are friends, good
friends in fact, although we were not very much alike. I am an avid reader,
a writer, and an academic. Eric is a jock: a former college football star,
loyal ESPN watcher, and splits his free time between the gym and any number
of sports bars he frequents. Our differences notwithstanding, we both enjoy
good imported beer and live music and we always have a great time when we
hang out. Then there's the sex, but I am getting ahead of myself.
Eric and I met when we were both university students. We had a few classes
together, lived in the same dorm room, and hung out with the same
people. He would take me to the gym to work out and I would tutor him in
English. Sometime around our second year of college, Eric learned I was bi.
Now, I was always comfortable with my sexuality, although I never wore it
on my sleeve. I dated women mainly, but from time to time I'd meet a man
who I found attractive and, if the attraction was mutual, we'd get
together. Eric found this to be a source of amazing entertainment. It never
affected his friendship with me and he never seemed put off by it, but he
never let it get in the way of busting my balls. I got to hear all the gay
jokes, the queen jokes, and anything else you can think of. Never really in
public, but when it was just us or our circle of close friends, it was game
on for Eric who, although he was a bull in a china shop, was a very funny
guy. I responded in kind with dumb jock jokes and muscle-head jokes. It was
all good between us.
One night in our senior year of college, things changed...sort of. We had
been out drinking at a local beer joint and wound up walking back towards
the dorms. Earlier in the evening, I had been chatted up by a pretty cute
bartender who ended up giving me his number. Of course, this led Eric to
pester me about calling the guy up when I got home. He seemed borderline
fascinated by the idea and couldn't figure out why I would hesitate to set
something up that night.
"Look," he said, "half the reason you're into guys is because gay dudes are
zero bullshit, sure things, right? I mean, you guys never turn each other
down. The one thing you've got going for you on your team is that you've
dispensed with the politics and the nonsense. No need for dinners, movies,
hours of talking and spending time together – all the bullshit women put
us through just to get a blowjob or a piece of ass."
"Wow, you've managed to sum up the entire gay experience into one quick
pursuit of easy blowjobs." I said, "You're a real Renaissance man,
Eric. Who knew?"
"Look," he continued, "I'm just saying that a man such as yourself, who has
had to suffer the torment of getting into a chick's panties, should
appreciate what you've got going for you with that. Maybe regular gay dudes
don't get it, but someone like you should appreciate it and take full
advantage, that's all."
"Someone like me...?"
"You know what I mean." He protested.
This went on for the remainder of the walk home and continued when we
arrived at Eric's apartment. I lived in the next building over, but we
usually stopped at his place for a last beer. Eric never seemed to be
weirded out by my bisexuality; in fact, if anything tonight he seemed
fascinated by it. Like a scientist studying a new species.
Eric grabbed two fresh bottles of Heineken from the fridge and gave me one.
"OK," he continued, "let me be serious for a minute here. Let's say you
were feeling horny, right? If you just called up one of your gay friends,
how easy would it be for you to close the deal?"
"Pretty easy." I admitted.
"OK, then," he said, "let's say one of your gay friends called you and said
he didn't really have time to hang out, but he really wanted to pass by and
get a quick blow job from you, right? What do you say?"
"Are you fucking kidding me, Eric???" I said, rolling my eyes in
exasperation.
"Dude, wait! I'm being serious here, bro, would you be, like, `no way', or
would you do it?"
I couldn't believe I was having this conversation at one in the
morning. Still, it was different. Eric was still the quintessential bull in
the china shop when it came to his social skills, but I could tell he
wasn't busting my chops. He seemed genuinely curious about the subject.
"I don't know, man. I guess...I guess it depends on who it was. If it was
someone I wasn't completely repulsed by...shit...I guess I'd say yes."
"See!" he exclaimed, jumping up from the couch, "That's what I mean! You
guys have it made. No chick, even the easy ones, would agree to it so
easy."
"I guess," I said, "So what next? You want to start hooking up with dudes
because it'd be easier, you lazy jock fuck?"
"Oh, no way!" he said, making a face like he just bit a lemon, "That's
fucking disgusting, dude! I mean no offense or anything."
"None taken...jerk."
After that, he turned on ESPN and I grabbed us a couple of fresh beers. I
didn't care much for the sports highlights, but there wasn't really
anything else to watch, anyway.
After about an hour of sports commentary, Eric turned to me and said, "So,
what about me?"
"What about you?"
"If I called you up because I really needed a blowjob, would you do it?"
"Are you nuts???" I said. "What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you
mental?"
"No, dude, I'm serious. Let's just say...just say that I really needed a
blowjob and I couldn't convince one of my regular girls to come
over...would you take care of business?"
"Dude," I said, "I think you've finally gone off the deep end. You really
think I'd agree to do anything with you? Even if I thought of you like
that, you're offensive, you're rude, you're...you're...you're fucking Eric
for Christ's sake! Half the time I don't even know why I hang out with you,
and now you think I'd want to blow you? You are something else, my man. I
thought you had an over-inflated ego before, but this really takes the
cake!"
"Dude," he protested, "Just think of it. What do you like to do? Blow
dudes, right? What do I like to do? Get my dick sucked, right? It's
fricking perfect! A match made in heaven. I'm not saying we're gonna be all
gay for each other or anything. It would just be in a pinch...if I couldn't
find anyone else and I was really horned up...bingo! Dude, you're right
here most of the time, anyway. Right?"
"And just what would your football buddies think of your `perfect plan',
huh?"
"Oh fuck that!" he said quickly, "That shit would have to be a total
secret. You can't even mention we had this conversation. You know that,
right?"
"Relax," I assured him, "The last thing in the world I want is for anyone
to know about this conversation. You're just drunk. Sleep it off. I'm going
up to my apartment. Later."
"OK, later dude, but remember..."
"I know, I know..." I closed the door behind me, walked to my place, and
fell asleep.
***
The next day, I passed by Eric's apartment to drop off some videos he left
at my place a few days earlier. He had a pot of coffee going, so I grabbed
a cup.
"So," Eric asked, "Did you think about it?"
"About what?" I said, grabbing a piece of Danish he had on the counter.
"About our `arrangement', bro."
"Are you still on about that shit, Eric? You better be careful because I
think you're becoming a fag, too."
"In your fucking dreams." He said.
I couldn't believe he was still on about this. I told him to explore his
gay fantasies somewhere else and reminded him that we had a history paper
due later in the week. I finished my coffee and left.
For the rest of the day, my mind kept wandering back to what Eric had
said. Was he serious? I figured he was just drunk and busting my balls, but
then when he brought it up again over coffee, I had to wonder if he was
really serious. I couldn't help but realize that Eric wasn't bad looking.
Six three, six four, broad shoulders, and huge arms. Longish hair and a
twinkle in his eye when he smiled. He was a self-absorbed and a ball
buster, but I could see why the ladies liked him.
***
I dropped by Eric's place that night. He invited me in and tossed me a cold
Heineken.
"Hey, where are we going tonight, man?" he asked, "I hear there's a wicked
new band playing at the Vick over in downtown. You wanna check it out?"
"What I accept your invitation instead?" I replied.
"What invita...oh shit! Dude, seriously? Oh, I don't know, dude..." he
stammered.
"Uh-uh, tough guy. You don't get to get all squirrelly on me now. It was
your idea, so don't act all shocked." I said.
"Are you sure?" he asked again.
"Would you just quit being a pussy about it?" I said. "Let's just do this
before I come to my senses and change my mind, ok?"
"Um...OK," he said, "where do I go? How do you want to..."
This was going to be tougher than I thought.
"Wherever you want, dude. If you want just drop your pants and sit on the
couch."
He walked to the couch, undid his pants and slid them and his underwear to
the floor, and then he sat. I didn't want to let on, but I was immediately
impressed. He had incredibly muscular legs and the cock that flopped out of
his tighty-whitey underwear was impressive even soft.
"OK," he said nervously as he began to stroke his cock slowly, "now
remember...you can't say shit about this to anyone. "
"Would you please relax?" I insisted, "Now lean back a bit."
I walked to the couch and knelt down in front of him. I pushed his knees
apart slightly and slid closer. I took his hand and pushed it gently away
from his hardening cock and took over stroking it. He was at about half
mast when I took over and kept getting harder and bigger with each stroke.
When he was fully engorged, he was probably eight or eight and a half
inches long and maybe five or six inches around. When I grabbed it, my
fingers barely touched on the other side.
He leaned back on the couch and looked toward the ceiling. I couldn't tell
if he was just enjoying the hand job that much, or just didn't want to look
down and see a man groping him. Especially since it was his idea.
A dab of pre-cum ran down the shaft and onto my hand. It lubed his cock a
bit and began to make it slick. I pushed his thighs slightly farther apart
and leaned down and licked the head of his cock, tasting the salty
pre-cum. I waited a second, thinking he might freak out and change his
mind, but he didn't, so I leaned in for a second lick.
I started working his head like an ice cream cone, licking it with the wide
part of my tongue and sucking it gently. He was starting to groan softly
and gutturally. I guided him into my mouth and relaxed my throat as best as
I could. It didn't help much because I couldn't get all of him inside. I
took it out and started licking the shaft up and down, pausing briefly to
suckle his big, egg-sized balls.
"Oh...fuck...yes..." he moaned.
By now I had lost whatever inhibitions and self-consciousness I had about
going down on Eric and I was getting into this. I giggled a bit under my
breathe, "You like that?"
"Oh yeah, man," he said, "Now keep going. This is amazing."
"Mmmmm..." I took him into my mouth again.
It quickly became evident that I was not the only one losing
self-consciousness. I felt Eric reach across with his large and muscular
hand and rest it on the back of my head as the other took hold of his cock
at the base. He softly grabbed a handful of hair and pulled my head back a
little bit, pulled his slick, wet cock from my mouth and rubbed it roughly
across my lips and cheeks, smearing me with a mixture of pre-cum and
saliva.
"Oh man," he said, "This is fan-fucking-tastic, bro!"
He slapped his meat on my face a couple of time, rubbed it across my mouth
again, and quite indelicately pushed it back inside my lips, simultaneously
humping my face and pushing my head down on to his erect hardness.
We held this rhythm for a few more minutes and he pulled my head back
again. I was sort of relieved for the chance to rest my jaw and catch a
breath of air.
"Hey, slide back a sec..." he said, out of breath, letting go of my hair. I
did and he stood up. He reached down and grabbed his beer, took a swig, and
turned towards me. "Well?" he asked, looking down at me with a big smile.
I took the hint and grabbed a hold of his dick and started stroking it
again as I put it back into my mouth. I couldn't help myself. It was
certainly one of the most magnificent specimens of man meat I had ever had
the pleasure of pleasuring.
After I sucked it a while longer, he reached down and began guiding me at
his own rhythm again; pulling my head forward to meet his gyrating hips and
driving his cock deep between my tonsils. Every now and again he would push
his cock as far into my throat as it would go and hold it there until I
gagged. I couldn't tell for sure, but something told me he was grinning
when he did it.
He lasted a good long time. I sucked him for what seemed like a very long
time. I began to wonder if he was ever going to cum. I rubbed his muscular
legs and his firm, hairless ass, and even reached up and ran my hands
across his thick, washboard stomach. I was developing a new appreciation
for football. Mostly, though, I just held onto the sides of his hips, or
stroked his cock as it slid in and out of my wet and worn mouth.
Every few minutes, he'd pull himself out of my mouth and rub it forcefully
across my mouth and cheeks or slap my face with it. I dutifully did what I
imagined he wanted me to do. Recalling the many porno flick blow job scenes
I had seen over the years, I did my best to close my eyes and moan softly
in ecstasy, as if there was no greater turn on in the world than having
Eric's cock smear saliva all over my face.
Eventually, I felt his rhythm shift as his cock began to pulse a little
harder. I knew he was ready to cum. I tried to recall if I had thought to
set a dish towel nearby to catch his salty load, but I couldn't remember if
I had. I wondered if I should let him cum in my mouth. It was only a few
feet to the kitchen where I could spit. I figured that was the price I'd
have to pay for forgetting the towel.
He was groaning louder now and slower. I knew it would only be a few
moments before he climaxed. As his moans got a little louder, he grabbed
the sides of my head in both hands and grunted loudly as he pulled me down
onto his dick. Wave after wave of thick, warm cum started shooting from his
cock, but he had forced it so far back in my mouth it was making me gag;
forcing me to swallow it. I tried to push back, but he only held on
tighter, jamming his cock deeper into my mouth with every spurt of salty
cum.
I couldn't even swallow all of it and I felt it dribbling out the sides of
my mouth and down my chin. As his eruption slowed to a trickle, he
gradually released his grip and exhaled loudly in an audible sigh of
relief. I pushed myself back, still gagging, wiping the excess spunk from
my lips and chin with my hand.
"Dude, what the fuck is your problem?" I coughed.
"What?" he said, looking shocked at my reaction.
"What's with shoving your cock down my throat when you came, man?"
"What? I had to cum, dude. What was I supposed to do?" he replied
incredulously.
"Who said you could even cum in my mouth? Why did you think I would swallow
your shit? What the fuck?" I stood and drank from my beer, glaring at him.
"I don't know. That's how I always do it with chicks, man. I don't like it
when they spit...it grosses me out." He was looking at me like I asked him
to do something unheard of.
"Dude," he continued, "Stop freaking out, ok? That's just the way I do it."
Then he smiled as he buckled his pants, "That was pretty fucking fantastic,
huh? You are one talented cocksucker, Tommy!"
Then he stretched, let out a relieved grunt, and went to the fridge. He
grabbed two fresh cold ones and handed me one with a smile. Then he plopped
back on the couch, grabbed the remote, and tuned on ESPN for football
highlights.
I never fully appreciated the depths of Eric's narcissism until that
moment. Still, he had a magnificent body, an amazing cock, and a sly
twinkle in his eye when he smiled. We would continue to hook up regularly
through graduation and well into adulthood. He never changed, but I kept on
coming back.
More to follow...